


I Created a World

by Infinatesky



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Autumn, Because they need to get their shit together, Bisexual Ryan, Coffee Shops, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gay Shane, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pining, Pumpkin Spice, Reunion, Ryan is so oblivious, Starbucks, Sweaters, They haven't seen each other in 5 years, all that wonderful fall stuff, also some cats, at the beginning, because I love cats, fall - Freeform, kind of??, lattes, shane is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-20 04:07:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20669051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infinatesky/pseuds/Infinatesky
Summary: Get ready for FALL VIBES and some GAY IDIOTS who take way too long to realize that they like each other back.or, the one where Shane and Ryan haven't seen each other in 5 years so they decide to go to a pumpkin patch. Feat. Ryan still thinks Shane is straight and Shane is too worried about the consequences of telling Ryan that he isn't.





	1. Oh, You Again

**Author's Note:**

> Whoohoo I live for autumn. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

The local Starbucks was plenty packed with people of all ages. Though the weather outside had yet to show signs of it, autumn was fast approaching, and with the change in seasons came the annual craze for pumpkin spice lattes and the like. Not that Ryan was judging anyone, how could he? In front of him, as well as in front of most of his friends, sat a whip cream topped seasonal coffee. In his T-shirt and shorts, it was hard to really convince himself that summer was over. 

Circled around the low table, arranged in comfortable chairs of various colours, sat 4 of Ryan’s closest friends. There had been a time when Ryan was loath to see anyone from work outside of being at the office, but soon enough his coworkers emerged themselves more and more into Ryan’s life. Now, their group was pretty much unbreakable. Ryan wasn't even completely sure who in their group was dating who, because it didn't really matter. There were legs resting on other's laps and sweaters being worn by people who they didn't belong to. They had grown so close that Ryan was sure his life must have been empty without them.

Sara and Jen, seated across the table from Ryan, swapped drinks to try a sip. Ryan watched happily as they burst into a fit of giggles when half of the whip cream from Jen’s drink fell onto Sara’s face. The background buzz of all the different conversations in the coffee shop, as well as the various remarks his friends made back and forth, warmed a place deep in Ryan’s heart. Or maybe that was just the latte. 

Ryan was so caught up in the moment that he watched Andrew's lips move to form a few words before he realized that perhaps he should listen. 

“I was thinkin’, you guys, and…” Said Andrew, cut off before he could really say anything by Annie’s hand racing through the air and towards his face

“Oh wait, just let me - “ Annie used her finger to wipe a drip of coffee off of Andrew’s chin. “Okay, now you can tells us.”

“Thanks, Annie. Uh, it’s just an idea, but, like I said: I was thinkin’, and I think that we should start a new video series, surrounding how we became friends.” When his idea was met with half-hearted groans from those around him, Andrew quickly tried to explain more. “I know it sounds like something that a teenager would make, but I think it could be really cool! You know? Like, the unlikely group of an athlete, an artist, a computer nerd, a travel bug, and me!”

“We're not that special.”

“That must have been done before.”

“How would we get that approved?”

“Hey guys, hear him out! I think that that could definitely go places.” It was Ryan who chimed in with the one voice of optimism. “Let’s all think about it, and dive deeper into it at work tomorrow.” Maybe it was because he was liked by everyone, or maybe because his voice had been the loudest, but everyone’s shaking heads slowly stilled, replaced by agreeing smiles.

“Thanks Ry. Yeah, let’s do that! I have a lot of ideas for the series already. We could call it 'No New Friends', because there's that new song, but then also who else could we ever - ”

Andrew was cut off once more when the door of the Starbucks swung wide open, caught in a chilled gust of wind. The tall but slouching figure of a man stumbled into the building, and for a second the store seemed to go quiet and dim. All eyes were on him and the outside light which illuminated him from behind. 

But by the time the door had brought itself back to the closed position, attention had shifted away from the intruder and the pleasant coffee shop noises and activities had resumed. Only one pair of eyes still trailed the man - the large, dark eyes of Ryan Bergara. That man, Ryan had seen him before, he just couldn’t place him yet. 

The tall coffee shop patron pulled one hood off of his head, then another, while he walked towards the front of the store. He unzipped his first jacket - a baby blue windbreaker - and folded it over his arm. He unzipped his second jacket, a warmer fleece one, to reveal yet another sweater, striped in orange and black, underneath. Despite now being able to clearly see the man’s face, Ryan still couldn’t make him out well enough across the shop to figure out who he was. It wasn’t until he ordered, his choice drink being a very long and complicated thing that sounded much too bitter for Ryan’s taste, that Ryan recognized him. There was only one person he had ever known who ordered like that. 

“Who you staring at?” asked Jen, positioning her face close to Ryan’s to try and see where his gaze was pointed. 

“Nobody. I just - Nothing. Where’d we get to with Andrew’s idea?”

“Still planning to talk about it tomorrow. We were just getting ready to leave.”

Ryan looked back to his friends now, and realized that they had all put their coats or sweaters back on, and the girls had pulled their purse straps back over their shoulders.

“Oh yeah, ok. I’m not quite done my drink yet, so I’m gonna stay here to finish. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“Do you want us to wait for you to finish?” Asked Sara. She had stood up, but looked like she was getting ready to sit back down.

“No, I’m good. Thank you though. I-” Ryan trailed off, turning his head to once more look in the direction of the man. He was still waiting on his ridiculous order, standing in the corner like a bent tree. 

Ryan wasn’t oblivious to the questioning looks his friends shot each other as they said their goodbyes and exited the shop, but he also didn’t care. As soon as the group of them had left, he shot up and took a few brisk steps towards the man with too many jackets. 

Once upon a time, before finding the friends who had just left, Ryan had only known one friendly face in all of LA. Before he started working at Buzzfeed, before he moved into his current, ideal apartment, and before he had even really known who he was, Shane had known him. And they had been the perfect duo. 

Ryan hadn’t seen Shane in over 5 years, which was nearly double the amount of time that they had been friends, and nearly triple the amount of time that they had been possibly more than friends. But God knew where that had led to. 

Now here he stood, alone, unobservant, and awkward as ever. Tall, gangly Shane. Easily cold, terribly complicated, and stupidly lovable Shane. 

Ryan couldn’t believe it. He had just assumed that Shane had moved elsewhere, maybe back to Chicago. He had let go, a long time ago, of any hopes of seeing him again. Ryan felt himself lose confidence with every step that he took towards his old friend. What would he say? Ryan began to wonder if he was making the right choice, going to see Shane right now. But ten feet from his target, Ryan’s deliberation was halted when Shane’s eyes flicked to his. He could see recognition spark in them immediately. 

If he were to turn and run out of the coffee shop now, Ryan was sure that he could make it to his car before Shane caught up with him.

But Shane had always been the more rational of the two. As Ryan stood frozen in the middle of the black tile floor, Shane pushed off of the wall he had been leaning on, let his long legs carry himself two strides forward, and was standing in front of Ryan before Ryan could decide if he really even wanted to do this right now. The easy nonchalance and laid back confidence he had felt with his friends had disappeared, replaced now with a feeling he recognized mainly from his younger years. 

“Is it ok if I hug you, Ryan?” From the tone of his voice, Ryan guessed that this wasn’t the first time Shane had asked him this. Ryan tended to miss things when he was in the middle of what Shane used to call a ‘minor freak-out’. Not many people knew this about him anymore. Not many people had had a reason to learn. 

“Yeah, Shane. Yeah, of course.” Ryan initiated the hug himself, wrapping one arm loosely around Shane’s back and moving his head so that he was looking around Shane’s shoulder. The taller man wanted more, Ryan could sense it from the way that his two gangly arms danced around Ryan’s middle and never quite found their place. But they were in a crowded Starbucks, and they hadn’t seen each other in years, so Ryan felt uncomfortable with anything beyond a friendly though withdrawn gesture. 

“What are you doing here?” Ryan asked, once he had let go of the half-hug. 

Shane’s eyes searched across his face, scrutinizing every detail in a way that made Ryan feel oddly self conscious. “I live just across the street, Ryan. I thought you knew that.”

“I thought you had left.” Ryan said quietly, but Shane’s name was called for his drink at the same time and he didn’t know if Shane had heard him or not. 

Ryan followed Shane timidly back over to the counter, and watch as he stirred his dark drink carefully before pressing a lid down onto it. His bony fingers moved so gently, you could forget that they were each about an inch longer than normal. 

“Should we sit?” Shane asked, motioning with his eyes towards a small table near the window.

“Ok,” Ryan said, because there was nothing else to say. His mind churned, unprompted, through all of the emotions that Ryan had felt towards Shane at one point or another. There were many, but one strongly outweighed the rest. 

Ryan realized he had once been in love with Shane at the same time as he realized that Shane was wearing a wedding ring.


	2. Pumpkin Patch Red Hot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second installment of my unnecessarily dramatic fall fic.  
I hope you like it!

Ryan’s feet didn’t touch the floor from the stool that he was sitting on. He didn’t imagine that any normal person’s feet would. So he balanced his toes against the bar between the chair legs and tapped them absentmindedly to a tune he had heard on the radio that morning. It was perhaps a self-soothing motion. 

He wrapped both hands around his now nearly empty coffee cup and smoothed his thumbs along the side. His eyes were glued to the lid of his cup, but his mouth was moving, his teeth slowly biting and releasing his bottom lip.

“Ryan, hey,” Shane said from across the tall table. Ryan didn’t reply in any shape or form - he was too busy listening to all the different thoughts whipping through his mind. How could he have loved Shane and not even realized it? 

Shane lifted one hand from his own coffee to place it on top of Ryan’s hand. This physical contact drew Ryan back to the present, but in a way that made him move so fast that he knocked his coffee cup backwards against himself. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Shane said. His tone was open and honest but the expression on his face was that of hurt. 

“No it’s ok, it was pretty much empty anyways. I don’t know what happened. It wasn’t your fault.” Ryan forced a laugh as he used a napkin from the table to wipe up the tiny bit of coffee that had spilled. 

“Let me buy you another one.”

“Shane, you don’t have to do that.”

But Shane was already standing up from the table. 

“What kind of drink was it? Pumpkin Spice?”

“I’m not letting you buy me another drink.”

A few minutes later, Shane was seated back across from Ryan, and Ryan had a new, piping hot, whip cream topped Pumpkin Spice Latte sitting in front of him. He hadn’t told Shane, but it was the exact drink he had ordered for himself earlier. Apparently he hadn’t changed that much, if Shane could still correctly guess his drink order after so many years.

Shane smiled at Ryan, more creases appearing around his eyes than Ryan remembered. 

“So. Fancy seeing you here.” Shane said. “I hope this doesn’t sound too stalkerish, but I’ve watched some of your videos on Youtube.”

“Did you like them?” Ryan asked.

“They were very entertaining. I always knew you could make it in that field Ryan. I’m proud of you.”

While the things Shane said were all very kind, they felt detached and bare. The conversation felt more like something he would have with his grandparents than with a friend. Where had the old, sarcastic Shane gone? The one with mischief in his eyes? 

“Well then you know all about me already, big guy. What about you?” The nickname felt foreign and bizarre on Ryan’s tongue. 

“I haven’t done much of anything really.”

“For five whole years?” Ryan knew Shane must be lying. How was the wedding ring on his finger not much of anything?

“Wow, has it really been that long? Yeah, I guess.”

“Are you up to anything today?” Give me something to go off of man, please, was what Ryan wanted to say. 

“Oh! Well I came here to get my coffee,” Shane held up his drink as he spoke. Ryan could hear the liquid sloshing around inside. “And then I was planning to go for a nice little drive up to the pumpkin patch.” That goofy smile was back on Shane’s face.

“You’re going to the pumpkin patch by yourself?” 

Shane looked around himself as if he had missed something. “Do you see anyone else here with me?”

“You must have... friends. At least one?” Ryan tried to allude to Shane’s wife.

“I used to have a friend.” Shane said, the smile sliding off of his face as he looked down towards his hands. Ryan looked to Shane’s hands too, and his eyes caught once more on the wedding ring. For some reason Shane didn’t want to bring up his wife. Ryan didn’t understand why he would avoid such an exciting and enviable topic. 

Ryan wanted to ask him about it, but when he looked back up to Shane’s face he saw a tired, slouching, quiet version of the Shane he remembered, and he decided not to push it. After discreetly checking his phone calendar and refreshing his messages to make sure there wasn’t anything urgent, Ryan decided he would take Shane to the pumpkin patch himself. He didn’t have too much left to do for the day, and as long as he was home early enough, and if he stayed up an hour or two later than he had been planning to, Ryan was sure he could make do.

“Ok, let’s go. I’m taking you to look at some pumpkins.” 

The excitement evident on Shane’s face, and the way his mouth parted into an adorable little ‘o”, was nearly enough for Ryan to lean over and kiss Shane right then.

They had decided to take Ryan’s car, since it was bigger and newer, although the reasoning Ryan had supplied for Shane had been because it already had a full gas tank. 

Ryan was driving, his arms open wide to rest one elbow on the side of the door below the window, and to use one hand to switch gears. Shane sat in the passenger side with all of his limbs pulled in as tight as he could get them. His cheery blue windbreaker was folded on his lap, and his fingers were laced together and sitting on top. He hadn’t spoken a word since they had gotten into the car. It was odd to have Shane sitting beside him after all these years - like watching a childhood movie again after you’ve grown up and picking up all of the depressing undertones that you missed as a kid. Ryan couldn’t help but remember that they had been seated like this in a car the last time he had seen Shane, except Shane had been driving. There hadn’t been much talking then, either. Just screaming. 

“Which pumpkin patch were you thinking, pal?” 

Shane seemed to wince. “The closest one is fine. Whichever.”

“You can have an opinion.”

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not a burden.”

“I have been.” Shane brought a hand up to smooth it through his hair. “I mean, to you, I - . I’m sorry. I’m sorry I brought it up. Can we go to Maple Bay Farms? They have a nice layout; it’s easy to find the good pumpkins.”

“Okay. Maple Bay it is.” Ryan knew he should have said more, addressed the first part of what Shane had said, but he didn’t know how. It had been five years, he thought Shane would have gotten over it, grown out of it. Ryan didn’t want to think about how Shane seemed to have gotten worse. He didn’t want to consider that he could be to blame.

Ryan switched onto the freeway and sped the car up. He watched the buildings around them transition into farmlands as they drove deeper into the countryside. Every time they saw animals out grazing, Shane would make the noise that the animal made. It was quiet, and he might not even have noticed that he was doing it, but Ryan enjoyed listening to all of the funny sounds he made. 

When their lack of conversation became grounds for Ryan’s mind to start running rampant, he flicked on the radio, and hummed along with each song that played. ‘Sweater Weather’ by The Neighborhood came on, and Ryan hummed a little more enthusiastically. By the time the chorus played, he was singing. To his surprise, Shane listened for a while, then he began to sing along as well. 

“'Cause it's too cold whoa

For you here and now

So let me hold whoa

Both your hands in the holes of my sweater,” They sang together. 

As the song came to an end, Ryan looked over to Shane, and they smiled at each other. For a fraction of a second, Ryan felt that maybe things could go back to how they had been before. Before Ryan had ever jumped out of a moving car to get away. Before they had kissed for the first time, or maybe even before they had ever held hands. If he could rewind the tape and do it all over again, he’d take it all the way back to the day when they first met. Back when Shane had greeted Ryan with a smile and a handshake, and the first thing he had said had been a compliment of Ryan’s Shirt. 

“Have you watched any good movies lately?” Asked Ryan, desperate for a conversation starter.

“I watched one recently. I don’t remember the title, but it was good, yeah.” Shane replied, focused more on the view out his window than on the words he was saying.

“What was it about?” Ryan didn't remember their conversations ever having taken this much effort on his part. 

“It was a romance. One of them was a singer.” Shane seemed to be choosing his words carefully.

“Oh.” Said Ryan. And that was the end of that. Talking to Shane like this felt like making a crappy phone call where half of the words were lost to static. Ryan wished Shane would just say what was on his mind.

The pumpkin patch parking lot was dry and dusty, but at least it was easier to walk on than the mud that would cover the entire place once it started raining. Ryan hopped out of the car and patted down his pockets to make sure he had everything: phone, wallet, keys, headphones. He watched Shane’s head bob around the car as he made his way over to Ryan’s side. Shane had put on the blue windbreaker, and now would be impossible to lose in a crowd, since he was pretty much a brightly coloured flag pole. 

They walked wordlessly through the rest of the parking lot and towards the grassy entrance to the farm. Ryan’s smart black shoes made a crisp sound even against the dirt, but Shane’s worn out purple Converse seemed much more farm appropriate. 

Ryan was surprised when they got to the gate and needed to pay to get in, but he paid for both of them without batting an eye. 

The dusty, late-summer state of the parking lot and entrance were completely forgotten as soon as Ryan entered the farm. Rust and fired coloured leaves on trees as tall as two-story buildings caught Ryan’s eye first. They acted as a partition between the empty blue sky and the lively, green-and-gold-scaped ground. To call it a pumpkin patch was simply not elaborate enough: this was a fall extravaganza. Ryan could see people being carted around on hay wagons, kids shrieking while running through a corn maze, bowling with round pumpkins instead of bowling balls, a fire where people were gathered around to drink hot apple cider and chat happily, and hay covered paths going in every direction that he could only imagine led towards more fabulous, fall-themed activities. 

“This is frickin’ awesome,” Shane said breathlessly, reminding Ryan that he was there. 

“Yeah, good choice, pal. What should we do first?”

Shane took a moment to think about it, then replied with “everything.”

More than a couple hours later, Shane and Ryan sat together on a wooden bench below a huge maple tree. Ryan had his head leaned backwards against the tree trunk so that he could look up at the wide, colourful maple leaves, shaking and shimmering as the wind blew easily through them. It felt a bit like star gazing. To his left, Shane sipped daintily at a paper cup of hot apple cider that they had bought for fifty cents. 

“There’s only one thing to do now, I guess,” Ryan said, breaking the peaceful silence. 

“We really did do a lot.”

“We did nearly everything there was to do. Including terrorizing some kids in the corn maze.”

“It’s not my fault they made it about three feet shorter than me,” Shane fake complained, and they both laughed. This was good; this felt easy. 

“So should we finish it off with what we actually came here for?” Ryan asked. 

“That would only be right,” Shane said matter-of-factly. 

The two stood up. Ryan stretch his arms up over his head, getting the kinks out of his back, before they walked down one of the most worn out hay trails to get to the pumpkin patch. It was time for Shane to pick out a pumpkin friend to take back home. 

“Is he really your friend if you’re just gonna scoop his innards out then set him on fire?” Ryan had asked. 

“Well maybe I won’t. You don’t know me.” Shane had returned. It had been meant as a funny jab, but Ryan couldn’t help but go too deep into it. Maybe he really didn’t know Shane anymore. 

The only reason Ryan could keep track of Shane in the pumpkin patch was because he was wearing that blue jacket, and suddenly Ryan understood why sometimes he saw kids running around in Visi Vests. Ryan wandered aimlessly through a few of the rows of pumpkins while he was waiting for Shane, and he noticed plenty of perfectly round, vibrantly orange pumpkins that he was sure would delight his friend. He bent down to look at some of them, running his fingers over their bumpy skin or gently touching their spiky vines. He even considered picking one out to bring home, but decided against it when he couldn’t think of anywhere suitable to put it. 

After what must have taken him many laps of the sprawling pumpkin patch, Shane returned to Ryan, rosy cheeked and somewhat winded. He was carrying with both hands a small, misshapen, blemished white oval.

“You sure that’s a pumpkin?” Ryan asked humorlessly, but his reaction didn’t dampen the grin etched across Shane’s face.

“Isn’t he so cute? I think I’m in love.” Shane joked, but only slightly. 

“That’s the one you wanna buy? You’re sure? But there are so many picture perfect pumpkins here,” Ryan gestured around them. “Are you really ‘in love’ with that one? It’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”

“I like this one because it’s a little different and a little ugly. Like me.” Shane’s voice was soft.

“Shane, you’re not -” Ryan sighed and brought a hand to his temple. “Ok bud, let’s go pay for it.” 

Ryan began to lead the way back up towards where they had entered the farm, but Shane seemed to have gained a new energy. He caught up with Ryan quickly, and when he spoke his voice was stronger than Ryan had heard it the whole day.

“Why do you use those words so often?”

“What words?” Ryan said, not slowing his pace.

“You know, words like ‘pal’ and ‘bud’ that you seem to tack onto the end of every other sentence.”

“I don’t know, I guess it’s just -” but Shane didn’t let Ryan finish.

“Is it because you need everyone to know that you’re so hetero all the time? It’s basically your way of saying ‘no homo’?” 

“No! I’m not even str-” 

“Oh and God forbid I get a pumpkin that looks a little different, because that’s not what’s expected.”

“I never said I didn’t like your pumpkin, I was just a little surprised, is all.”

A lady dressed in a plaid button up called towards them from the doorway of a small farm house, “Would you fellas like to taste some locally made whiskey?” 

“We don’t really have time, thanks,” Ryan replied.

“I would love to, thank you!” Shane said at the same time. He walked briskly into the farm house, and Ryan couldn’t leave him alone in this state.

Shane had sat himself down at the questionably made wooden bar and already had a line of shot glasses in front of him by the time Ryan reached him. As Ryan sat down beside him, Shane reached out and downed the first shot of whisky. 

“Shane, let me take you home now,” Ryan said, voice near pleading.

“What a nice thing for you to do, though, drag me out here in the first place. Just so you could remind me how worthless I am.” Shane emptied another shot glass. “How I’ll never get the things I want.”

“Shane, you’ve been through a lot. I understand that you’re feeling overwhelmed. Please help me understand what I can do to help you.” Ryan was using all the tactics he had ever learned on how to deal with someone who was about to hurt themselves. He figured this counted.

“Help you understand? Why don’t you help me understand, Ryan. Help me understand why you decided you hated me so much that night that you just had to get out of the car right then. You chose possible death over me, Ryan. Death seemed like a better option than spending one more second in the same car as me.” Shane said Ryan’s name like it was dirt on his tongue. He lifted his hand to drink another shot of whisky.

There were so many things Ryan could have said to that. So many things he wanted to scream in Shane’s face. He decided on centering himself, before calmly saying: “You’ve gotta get over it, man. The last time I saw you was five years ago, and even before then we never really mattered. You’ve got a wife, for God's sake. Just forget about that night and the regrettable things we both did.” 

“I’ve got a what?” Shane froze with the last shot glass halfway to his mouth.

“You’re ring. Don’t think I haven't noticed it. Why won’t you tell me anything about your wife?”

Shane put down the still full shot glass and took a deep, exasperated breath. 

“I don’t have a wife, Ryan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another wedding ring related cliff hanger? Are you serious?


	3. Confused Thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this whole chapter while listening to Lorde songs, which may explain some things. You could try listening to Lorde songs while you read it, and perhaps that will make it a more cohesive story. One can always hope.
> 
> Anyways, here is chapter 3. Have fun!

Ryan stared blankly at Shane, face twisted up in confusion. “You don't have a wife? What do you mean, pal?”

“Fuck. Off. With those words.” Shane turned sharply away from Ryan. He threw a crumpled up twenty dollar bill on the bar, then swung his legs off the chair. He stopped moving when he stepped in front of Ryan, for just long enough to say, “I have gotten over it. I have gotten over you. My life may not have turned out as great as yours, but at least I never lead someone on for a full five years.”

Ryan watched Shane walk out of the bar, but couldn’t bring himself to move. Lead Shane on? Had he lead Shane on? Ryan replayed that last night in the car, as he had done too many times before. It was a memory that often plagued him in the nights when he was trying to sleep, or occupied his brain space when he wasn’t busy trying to distract himself with something else. 

It had been Ryan who had asked Shane if they were a thing. If maybe their habits of physical contact and constant closeness pushed them past the friend zone. And yeah, it had also been Ryan who had left, slipped out of the car while at a stop light, but that was only because Shane had had such an overwhelming, stressful reaction to the question, sputtering and twitching like a machine going into overdrive. Ryan had assumed that Shane had reacted like he did because he was a straight guy who had just been ‘accused’ of acting gay, but if that was the case, how had Ryan lead him on? 

Can you lead someone on as a friend? That must be it. Ryan tapped his fingers against the wooden bar top and nodded his head a few times. Shane must think that Ryan had lead him on as a friend, only to spring the gay thing on him at the last second. 

With his thoughts gathered, Ryan stood up onto the creaky floor and left the bar. He was now carrying Shane’s odd pumpkin, because Shane had left it behind and Ryan didn’t want any more reasons for Shane to be sad. He ducked out of the building just in time to see Shane step into a different one, a little ways away. When Ryan read the sign on that new building, he gulped. 

Maybe it was because he figured that it was the last place where Ryan would follow him, but Shane had just entered ‘Maple Bay Heritage Haunted House’. 

With the little pumpkin hugged tightly to his chest, Ryan paid his five dollars and stepped into the dark, already terrified of the haunted house. It was a small building, but the sheer amount of rooms and the maze-like way they were laid out made it seem much bigger. No lights were on, and no windows were open to the daylight - the only light source was the line of flickering candles along each brown wall. His feet slid noiselessly against the uneven floor.

Ryan jumped when he saw a shadowy figure standing in front of him, and had to wait for his eyes to adjust before he realized that the creature was just Shane. 

“This is so spooky, man. Can we please leave?” Ryan moved close to Shane and put one hand against his chest. He wanted to make sure that his friend didn’t run away any deeper into the horrible house - Ryan didn’t think he would be able to follow. “I’m sorry that something I did upset you this much. It’s ok if you don’t don’t wanna be friends. Hey, I get it, five years is a long time. People change. Just please let me drive you home.”

“I’ve never just wanted to be your friend.” Shane said. His voice had returned to the soft, near-whisper that he had been using earlier.  


“Shane, please. Just say what you mean. Stop being so cryptic.” 

“I never wanted to be just friends.” Shane repeated, avoiding eye contact. 

And in that moment it was Shane who was drunk, but it was Ryan who leaned in to kiss him. Their lips touched for just long enough that Ryan could taste the alcohol on Shane’s tongue, then Shane was gone. Ryan opened his eyes to see Shane standing a couple of feet away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. It may have been a trick of the light, but Ryan though he saw tears welling up in the corners of his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, I thought - “ 

“It’s ok. Just… please don’t do that again.” Shane side stepped around Ryan, then lead the way back out of the haunted house. They didn’t talk about the kiss for the whole ride back; they didn’t talk about anything. 

When Ryan pulled past the Starbucks where they had met that morning, Shane directed him the rest of the way to his house using as few words as possible. Outside of a run down, graying brick of a building, Shane got out of the car. He didn’t close the door behind himself right away and instead seemed to deliberate before turning back to Ryan and handing him a little folded slip of paper. 

“Call me. If you want. I know it didn’t go super well today, but it was still nice to see you.” Shane mumbled. He picked up his pumpkin and closed the door without giving Ryan a chance to reply. 

It was a sleepless night for Ryan, and he showed up for work the next day with a list of things he still hadn’t done and a head filled with so many confused thoughts it was a wonder he appeared well enough to not be questioned by his friends. His week went on like this, each day the folded up slip of paper containing Shane’s phone number got moved into the pocket of whatever pants he was wearing that day, and each day Ryan never called.

By Friday, Ryan had gotten sucked so deep into it that he was browsing through old photos of Shane and him on his computer while at work. He stumbled across a photo that he was pretty sure had been taken by accident: it was a slightly blurry shot of him and Shane celebrating the night after Ryan was hired by Buzzfeed. Ryan was holding a cupcake with a just-blown-out candle on top, and grinning so widely that his eyes were closed. Shane stood beside him, sideways to the camera, and kissing Ryan happily on his cheek. 

Ryan gasped when he saw the photo. That had been such a perfect night; it made Ryan feel even worse about the way things currently were between Shane and him. 

While the photo was enlarged on Ryan’s screen, Jen walked by, holding a fresh cup of coffee

“That’s so cute! Is he your boyfriend?” Jen asked, voice bubbly. 

“No he’s my… We were… It’s complicated.” Ryan felt his cheeks were beginning to heat up. 

And then, as if there weren’t already enough people looking at Ryan’s computer, Sara stopped by to look as well.

“Hey, is that the guy from Starbucks the other day? You know, I thought he looked familiar.” Sara said.

“Familiar, to you? How so?” Ryan turned to Sara, his interest piqued. 

“Yeah. Hang on a sec, let me remember… oh I know. I think I saw him walk in for one of the clubs when I was volunteering at the rec center. Hmm, maybe for the grief counselling meeting?” Sara shrugged. 

“The… No way. That doesn’t make any sense.” Ryan’s quick reaction shocked even himself. 

“I think it was, but maybe not. I’m not sure.” Sara and Jen looked at each other over top of Ryan’s head, before both walking off towards their own desks, leaving Ryan to process this new information on his own. 

Ryan tapped his feet, scratched his head. He put his headphones in and played some music very loudly. He spun back and forth in his chair until he began to feel sick. Then, quickly, because he knew the burst of confidence would leave at any second, Ryan unfolded the piece of paper and called Shane. 

Ryan had some questions to ask. Shane had some too. They decided to meet back at the Starbucks to talk after Ryan finished work. 

Ryan had already parked his car out in front of the Starbucks, and was checking his phone out of habit more than importance when he saw that Shane had sent him a text. Or, he assumed it was Shane - he hadn’t set his number to a contact yet. The text said ‘Please come to my house instead. 4125 Gerguldy street, apartment 3B.’

Trying to not overthink it, Ryan turned his car back on and left the parking lot. He remembered how to get to Shane’s house without having to program it into Nav, but that didn’t make the buckling grey building any more pleasant to look at the second time. There was no greenery in sight of Shane’s apartment: all the eye could see was grey on grey on grey, with a few sparse and far away mountains visible over the top of the building. 

Ryan closed his door firmly and locked it twice to be sure. Past a barbed wire fence, Ryan could see an uneven stream of people walk rigidly down the sidewalk. He eyed the camera equipment laid out on his back seat, and wished that he had an extra sweater he could throw over top of them. 

He was surprised to find the main entrance into the building open to the public, but entered anyways and began following the numbers on each door to locate Shane. He followed the carpeted hallway to the other end of the building, and ascended a flight of narrow, metal stairs. The door to Shane’s apartment was as unassuming as the rest of them, and Ryan’s knuckles against the door only made a hollow, dull wrap that he doubted anyone inside could hear unless they were standing right on the other side. 

Should he call out and hope his voice got through the door? He couldn’t see any button to press for a doorbell. But Ryan didn’t have to try anything else, because the door swung inwards and a thin voice told him to come in. 

Ryan pushed the door the rest of the way open with the back of his hand. He was met with an overly bright entrance way, full of many pairs of shoes but empty of anyone else. 

“Shane?” Ryan asked the air as he toed his runners off and added them to the pile. When no response came, he lead himself deeper into the house. The walls were cream-coloured, and bare except for a few sparse photos. Upon closer examination, Ryan found that all of the photos were of the same two people: Shane and a man with short, curly blond hair and an angelic face. In the photos, the two men hiked in a forest with huge backpacks, they relaxed on a sandy beach, and they posed in front of some European buildings. They stood on an alter both wearing tailored suits. They held hands and looked deeply into each other’s eyes. Then they were in a hospital. 

Ryan was caught off guard by the last photo. The blond man lay in a hospital bed, although he was barely recognizable. His face was folded into a bright smile, but his skin was pale and his hair was gone. Standing to his side, and looking at him with tired, worried eyes was Shane. Ryan could feel the gears spinning in his brain as a new story of Shane’s life came together. 

He had forgotten that he was standing in another person’s house, and when Shane tapped him on the shoulder, Ryan was a bit embarrassed to have been found gaping at an obviously personal photo.

“Oh, hello. I was just - “ 

“Let’s go sit down.” Shane said, and Ryan followed him into another room to sit on a threadbare green couch. Shane was wearing faded plaid pyjama pants and a fluffy white bathrobe. Ryan found himself wondering if Shane was wearing a shirt underneath. He shut that train of through down quickly, and sat expectantly against one of the couch arms. Shane joined him, sitting about a foot away. Ryan adjusted his body so he could look at Shane, but Shane continued to face forward. His brow was furrowed. 

“Thanks for coming.” Shane started slowly.

“Oh, no problem. I was -”

“You’re just gonna have to let me talk, okay?” Ryan nodded at Shane’s words, but wasn’t sure if the gesture was noticed. Shane continued regardless. “You saw the pictures, so maybe you put this together already, but I’m gonna start at the beginning. I want you to get the full story. You deserve it.” There was a pause before he spoke again. Ryan shifted uncomfortably in the silence.

“Alright, I’m sure you remember that night in the car, I’m gonna start there,” Shane decided. “When you asked me if we were more than friends, it threw me off because I had somehow convinced myself that I was so inconspicuous with everything that I did. Of course I wanted to be more, but I didn’t think that you did. When you said that, I took it like an insult. I thought you were calling me out.”

“Shane,” Ryan said, reaching a hand forward but dropping it back to the couch before it got to Shane. 

Shane looked over to meet Ryan’s eyes for the first time that day. “Not done yet, Ry.” Shane looked back at the ground in front of him, and curled his fingers underneath his knees before continuing. “I had gotten it in my head, somehow, that you knew too much and hated me for it, so I let you drop out of my life. I met… him, in the photos, not too long after that. We got married two years ago. I loved him so much, Ryan. He filled the hole that you had blown in my heart.” Shane closed his eyes and breathed in slowly through his teeth. “But he had been fighting a battle against his disease for a long time, and it got to a point where the doctors couldn’t help him anymore. I said goodbye to him for the last time about 5 months ago. I’m really sorry about how I acted yesterday. The pain is still so fresh, and I thought I could handle being with you, but obviously I was wrong.” Shane opened his eyes and threw his head back. “I did get over you, Ryan. But I never forgot about you. I never forgot about us.”

Ryan was completely baffled, and surprisingly close to tears. His brain was fried, which was made evident by the shitty response of, “Wait, you’re gay?” that he managed to spit out.

Shane side-eyed Ryan, a slight smile playing on his lips. “That whole sob story and that’s the one thing you get out of it.”

“No, I mean. Wow, Shane. I’m really sorry for your loss.” Ryan had always been crap at knowing what to say in situations like this. “Are you doing alright?” 

“Does it look like I’m doing alright?” Shane asked, motioning to himself. Along with his lazy outfit, Shane’s hair was sticking up in all directions and his eyes were buried in dark circles. He laughed hollowly, before adding, “I’m better now that I have someone to talk to, though. Other than Norman, I mean.”

“Norman?”

“He’s probably sleeping on my bed. You wanna go meet him?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who coULd hE pOSsiBlY bE??!!1!!11???


	4. The Beach at Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a little chapter to finish 'er up. I hope it wraps the story up well for you and answers any remaining uncertainties. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Norman, of course turned out to be Shane’s cat, curled up into a little grey ball on Shane’s double bed. 

An antique lamp shone dully from the bedside table, providing the only light in the room. Shane sat himself down on the side of the bed, and Ryan followed suit. It was quiet but for the electric hum of the house and the rhythmic purring from the cat. Ryan wasn’t much of a cat person, but he reached to pet Norman nonetheless, focusing on the soft grey fur under his fingers instead of whatever message Shane’s crumpled posture was sending. Ryan pet the cat and counted as the minutes ticked by on his watch. He found himself wondering how long he would be sitting in the dark on someone else’s bed, but he found he also didn’t really want to leave. 

Shane looked up suddenly, at least twenty minutes later, and said, “Do you want to go for a ride?” to the wall beside Ryan’s head. It had been silent for so long that Ryan had almost fallen asleep sitting up. He had no idea what Shane meant by the question, but felt that he was in no position to say no.

“Ok. Yeah, ok.” 

Shane moved to stand up, and Ryan copied the action. They left the docile cat and moved swiftly through Shane’s apartment, out the door where Ryan had entered, and back down the metal staircase. When they reached the ground floor, Ryan followed Shane out of a different exit, towards the back of the building. 

Cut out of the wall were parking spots for the residents. Most were occupied by scratched up old cars or locked up pedal bikes. Shane continued towards a parking spot which was home to an object hidden by a blue tarp. He took his bathrobe off - he was wearing a shirt underneath - and bent down to take the weights off of the sides of the tarp so that it could be lifted. Underneath the tarp sat the last thing Ryan had expected: a black-with-silver-accents Harley Davidson motorcycle. It was the kind of thing you would expect to see someone in a biker gang use, while they wore full leather and a bandanna tied around their neck. It wasn’t what Ryan expected Shane to ride, especially not while wearing pyjama bottoms. Ryan was unsure if that was even legal. It definitely wasn’t safe. 

But Shane seemed to have lost his usual care for obeying the rules. He pulled two helmets out from where they had been concealed, and offered one to Ryan. Ryan pulled on the massive helmet and tried to get used to the weight of it on his head as he watched Shane dance around the motorbike, checking various gauges and making sure everything was good to go. 

Shane looked to Ryan and said, “This bike isn’t really mine, but it’s also not anyone else’s. I’ve driven it just enough to know how to not die," before hopping on the bike. Shane’s voice was so monotone that Ryan almost had to laugh. When he hopped onto the bike behind Shane, he felt a pang of fear coarse through him as the reality of the situation kicked in. At least being a motorcycle ghost would be kind of cool, he reasoned. 

“Hold on tight,” Shane called to Ryan as he revved up the bike. Ryan wasn’t sure what Shane wanted him to hold onto, but his question was answered by Shane’s hands reaching back to pull Ryan’s arms around Shane’s waist. Suddenly, ‘I hope I don’t die’ wasn’t the only thought running through Ryan’s brain. The bike started off before Ryan had finished mentally preparing himself for the jolt of movement underneath him. He tightened his grasp around Shane reflexively. 

The motorbike roared around the corner of the building, towards the parking lot. As Shane swung the bike to make the turn, it tilted to one side and Ryan braced for impact in case they lost balance and fell over. When he opened his eyes again, one at a time, he found that they were already out of the parking lot and barreling down the empty road, leaving town. 

The lines on the road couldn’t seem to contain them. Wind stung all the places where Ryan’s skin was exposed, and he found himself sheltering behind Shane’s back, but it was hard to look away for long from the landscape that surrounded them. Though it whisked by and was slightly blurred, the trees and buildings that the motorbike drove by attracted Ryan’s attention. They felt so close to him, since he wasn’t concealed behind the walls of a car. He could imagine that he was just free flying down the road, and that if he so pleased he could drift sideways and touch the tips of his fingers to the soft undersides of the red and orange maple leaves.

All around them, reminding Ryan of the pumpkin patch, shot up more and more maple trees. With the speed that the motorbike had gathered, it was like Ryan was watching a forest grow in fast forward. The world turned dark red when the maple trees multiplied to a point where they blocked out the sun. Everything was red and orange leaves, the growl of the bike and Shane’s body under Ryan’s arms. 

Then Ryan blinked and the world was back to normal. 

They continued to screech along the road, surrounded by sparse trees and increasingly expensive houses. The ground just past the side of the road on Ryan’s right began to slope lower and lower away from him. It fell away and became a cliff, past which Ryan could see a mass of churning blue. The ocean. He felt his heart beat against his rib cage and his lungs contract. He reminded himself to breath. 

Shane let the motorbike drift into the other lane, making a wide turn. Ryan felt his shoulders slump in disappointment as he assumed that they were turning around to head back home. He watched as Shane began a U-turn, and then didn’t finish it. He stopped turning the wheel when the bike got to be horizontal on the road, and then gunned the bike forward, towards the cliff. Then off of it. 

Ryan wanted to scream, but the noise got stuck behind his teeth and failed to come to existence. ‘Oh my god, oh my god, I’m about to die,’ would have been the last thought that went through Ryan’s brain, which he didn’t consider a particularly impressive line. Luckily, he would live to come up with a better one, as the cliff turned out to be less of a drop off and more of a rough incline that the motorbike was able to coast down. Ryan was too scared to watch, so he closed his eyes and hoped that Shane’s were still open. 

The next time Ryan braved a glance, the bike had reached the bottom of the hill. They had slowed down, and had begun to trace a line along the ocean side. The beach they rode on was made of small, black rocks, smooth and shining. 

The bike jolted to a halt when Ryan was least expecting it, and he had to strain to stop his helmet from hitting Shane. With the noise from the engine quieted and the world around him stilled, Ryan felt as though he had just been pulled out of a dream. He only remembered he could move when Shane, who had already removed his own helmet, slid out of Ryan’s grasp and walked, as if in a trance, to the edge of the water. 

Ryan struggled to undo the latch on his helmet with shaky hands, then balanced it on his seat and went to Shane. The rocks crunched like snow under his feet. Shane stood with his back to the motorbike, posture rigid. Stepping in to stand beside him, Ryan could hear Shane’s jagged breathing, like he was trying not to cry. Ryan reached his hand towards Shane’s, gave it a squeeze, then let go and dropped his hand back at his side. Shane, without looking away from the ocean, got Ryan’s hand in his grasp again and didn’t let go. 

It was a harrowing scene, Shane in his pyjamas and now even crazier hair, with a motorbike parked haphazardly behind him and calm, dark water stretched out in front of him. His face was empty of emotion, but his hand held Ryan’s forcefully. Seagulls flew over top of them, calling out in their familiar voices, but aside from them Shane and Ryan stood all alone on the expansive beach. Water licked up occasionally and touched the tips of Ryan’s white sneakers, but he forced himself not to care. 

It was approaching sunset, the sky becoming a gradient of blues starting from the clear blue of day time and dropping off into a near black on the horizon. Ryan wondered anxiously how they would get the motor bike back up the hill and onto the road, especially in the dark. He felt alone in this worry, as Shane seemed to have removed himself from reality. Ryan wasn’t really sure if Shane had been completely present even when they had started this little adventure. 

Shane, or the physical part of him that was standing beside Ryan, let his long legs bend underneath him and sat on the black rock of the beach. 

“I never thought this would be my life,” he said somberly. He dug his fingers into the little rocks on either side of him mindlessly. Ryan dropped down to sit next to him.

“I know,” he said, though he was sure he didn’t. Ryan glanced at Shane’s face, expecting to see it distorted in sadness, or long and void of any emotion. He would have accepted anything except for the giddy grin that Shane was wearing. 

“I’m a widow!” Shane cried out. He threw his arms up, tossing the little pebbles that had been in his fingers through the air. Ryan tried to dodge the raining rocks. Shane laughed gleefully beside him. He let his head knock backwards with a particularly encompassing spout of laughter, and let his body follow until he was lying all the way down onto his back. 

Ryan felt at a complete loss. He patted Shane’s bicep - the body part that was closest to Ryan - and tried to think of a time in his life where he had dealt with something similar, but drew a blank. So Ryan tried to help by just being present. He sat on the rocks and felt them cold and wet on his legs, and watched the ocean disappear into the horizon as the world around them darkened. He listened to Shane's crazed laughter turn to sobs, then back to laughter, then falter and become silent.

Maybe Shane would sit up and be ready to leave in the next minute. Maybe they would sit there all night. In Ryan’s imagination, Shane had moved away from him and found his own happy little life in another state. Ryan had thought sometimes that all he had to do to feel okay for himself was to do something better than whatever Shane would do. It had been a terribly jealous and vindictive state of mind, and nothing that Ryan was proud of. Especially not now. No matter how much he had blamed Shane, at first, for the way things had ended, Ryan would never wish this kind of heartbreak upon his friend. Kind, playful Shane hadn’t done anything to deserve this. 

And Ryan had just left him. He had abandoned Shane, ignored all possibility of seeing him again, and he blamed himself for letting Shane go through the death of his husband by himself. Not anymore. Ryan wouldn’t go anywhere now. 

When the moon and stars had come up to dance above their heads, Shane finally made a motion towards standing. He pushed himself off of his back stiffly, dusted his hands off, then rubbed them down the sides of his face. The laughing spell seemed to have drained him of any energy he had somehow accumulated in the bike ride over. 

Ryan felt the need to say something, but his brain wasn’t supplying him with any ideas of what words to use. In the end, Shane beat him to it.

“I think I feel a bit better now,” he spoke through still lips, voice caught up in his mouth. 

“What’s the plan now, bud-” Ryan cut the last word off halfway through, remember Shane’s complaint back at the pumpkin patch,

“I… don’t know. I don’t want to go home.”

“I heard there’s a coffee place back on 6th that stays open through the night,” Ryan offered.

“I’m always down for an overpriced themed latte,” Shane’s voice was shaky, but his tone was encouraging.

“Perfect. Drinks are on me.” Ryan stood, then reached a hand down to help Shane off of the ground. 

When they got on the motorbike again, Ryan wrapped his arms automatically around Shane, and he didn’t even worry about the climb back up the hill. He knew they would be alright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Could that last line have had a double meaning!?! oooh.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. It makes me very happy that perhaps I entertained at least a few people for a short while with my nonsensical rambling. 
> 
> I would love to hear your thoughts! 
> 
> Also, I have already started planning the next Shane/Ryan fanfic that I would like to write, so stick around if you want to see that shortly. 
> 
> Come say hi to me on Tumblr! I'm infinate-sky


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